Avalanche
by uppertorso
Summary: One Shaman's thoughts on another during rather intimate moments. YAOI WARNING. You guess who the boys are D


Spontanious, random yaoi thing... D I don't know what I'm on. I'm rather sure you know who these boys are, and if not, well, you can pretend they are who ever you want.

Um...Rated R for YAOI and complete randomness... Flamers will be mocked and have their pants stolen.

Shaman King aint mine ;

--

Just when I feel that being this close to death is over-bearing, intoxicatingly intolerable, you're there. You're there to bring me back to life, to remind me what's like to feel, to live. I can feel your hands before they touch me. They caress every inch of my aura before they press to my skin.

Gods you know just how you touch me, to make me feel whole. I know I don't make you feel the same. I yell at you, call you baka, but you still love me. Why? Perhaps it's your revenge...to plague me with this guilt, guilt that I will never openly express.

Your mouth is next to follow. It's so odd to feel heat from you, but it feels incredible nonetheless. I hate you for what you make me, this whimpering uke of a shaman. You think I don't see that ridiculous smirk on your face after a beg has slipped through my lips. But I still love _how_ you make me into this image of weakness and submission that I despise. Every nerve is on fire, like ice so cold it burns. The black ice you never see coming.

You whisper something in my ear, but I'm so gone I barely hear you. I'm sorry, you'll have to speak into the microphone. You ask if I like it, if you should continue. I would hit you if my hands weren't comfortably beneath my pillow. You just want to see me out of my shell, see the frail boy I try to hide, the boy I pretend doesn't exist.

Sorry koi, that boy died along time ago.

As you stoop to kiss my neck, I inhale your hair. It's always the fullest of you scent. It's always the same, Cold clean and crisp.

Avalanche. My senses are always left tingling when you're too close to me...which, at this moment my koi, is not close enough. My hands move to pull you closer, to press your bare chest against mine. Flesh on flesh, scars on scars...every shaman has them. You run one finger delicately down one of my deeper ones. It's a 3 inch gash that runs over the inside of my left arm and down. An injury I received as a child when I was only a amateur with my weapon.

It's the most sensitive of my scars. Although it is old, it continues to expose raw nerve ending that seem to be connected to my spine. I gasp, even though I try not to. I hate now you've learned my body, you never have to work for anything anymore. I grab the back of your neck and pull you in, hoping the crushing of our lips will erase that damn grin.

You wore that grin the first time I kissed you...it was months ago. I was frustrated, tired and insomnic, and you keep going on and on...I remember how close you were to tears, afraid I would kill you, or worse, reject you. In fact, I was amused. You still felt for me after all the abuse we had put each other through. That was worthy of a kiss. But then _I_ wanted more, pulling you close. At least at that time I was in control.

We haven't told anyone yet, for obvious reasons, but I think you like the fact that we are forbidden the most. You like knowing that people wouldn't understand, that they would shun us if they ever found out. Something like this on my name would mean I'd be out a family...or a head. But you are free, without responsibility and problems. I envy you at times.

Soon, it's happening. Oh gods, it's happening. I can feel you in me, pushing my body past its limits within seconds. You always start off slow and gentle...it's just in your nature, no matter how many times I remind you that you don't have to treat me like a damn china doll. Harder, damnit!!

Now it's time for the cries to escape your lips. Even if your fucking me, I still have my moments of dominance, moments you love. I must maintain a shred of my dignity and power. But then you get me back, leaning closer to me and pressing my legs to my chest, opening me to you. It's my turn to scream. I love it rough, I love it when _you_ give it to me rough.

I've convinced myself that this is just another test for my body and mind. Although it's a blissful combination of pain and pleasure, one so intense I just want to scream until the heavens hear me, it is still harsh on my form. I'm quite thankful you've excepted this...you except so much of me.

My fingers dig into your back as I arch off the mattress. One of your hands sweeps beneath my back, pressing up against my tailbone. You pull me even closer to you, so much that I can continue relishing in your scent. Your moans and gasps are close to my ear, and I can feel everything going white. My head falls back as I scream without a sound, my nails digging into your shoulder blades so harshly I'm afraid I've cut you.

Nothingness whispers pass from me you, pleas, approvals...I think there's an 'I love you' as well, which you repeat back to me with a kiss to my ear. I can't believe how warm those three cliché, over-used words can make me feel.

Damnit baka...don't you ever leave me.

--

I needed to write this...at least until I get to the slash in another story I'm writing ; R&R if you want, but it's a little thing so I don't expect much.


End file.
